


The Hand that Takes

by ExtraPenguin



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Breathplay, Crueltide, Drugged Sex, M/M, Time Period: Reign of Gregor Vorbarra, Yuleporn, Yuletide, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:23:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/pseuds/ExtraPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The training and operations of Byerly Vorrutyer, as told from the perspective of Captain Illyan</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hand that Takes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karanguni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karanguni/gifts).



> Have a nice Yuletide, karanguni!

Captain Simon Illyan, Chief of Imperial Security, was leaning on the wall and observing the Emperor's Birthday Party. He let his eyes track the crowd, automatically matching face to name. (The Cetagandans took a tad longer. They always took a tad longer, what with their paints obscuring and assimilating.)

There. Byerly Vorrutyer, miraculously invited to the party, leaning on Jacques Vorlane. Vorlane was suspected of embezzlement from his Ops post. The investigation had stalled, in want of a confession or a clue.

Vorlane was a notorious partier. A perfect target for Vorrutyer.

Vorrutyer flirted overtly, and based on body language, was using the ImpSec trick of keeping Volane on the defensive. (Human psychology was an interesting subject. Keep a man constantly under mental attack, and he would like his attacker.) Simon resisted smiling. Vorrutyer was well-trained.

Vorrutyer was well-trained, and that meant loyal. Simon remembered the first weeks on Barrayar after having the chip installed, Negri first tearing him down and then building him up. Simon had developed the typical victim's love for his torturer. Negri had pushed down and pushed in, having Simon come apart below him with a squeeze at the throat. Simon hadn't even known he'd find it arousing.

Vorrutyer leaned closer, mirroring Vorlane's body language all the while. Their noses almost touched. Vorrutyer said something, seductively turned away, and walked off. Vorlane looked like a man who had to wait to dispel suspicions.

Simon let his eyes drift from Vorlane and resumed his scanning.

 

Vorrutyer was Vor, and that meant that the indoctrination was carried out by a man of more experience and rank, who had proven his skills at putting people back together again. It was a milder version of what Negri had done to Simon – interrogation under fast-penta, interrogation with more old-fashioned methods, mild psychological torture, finished off with sex and tenderness. Some of Negri's more effective methods had been dropped as too risky.

_Simon was drooling. He couldn't find it in himself to close his mouth. He didn't know how long he'd been in here. The drugs made chip-recall fuzzy, and left him unable to do anything but stay on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back._

_Negri lifted Simon's chin with a finger. “You are a tool of the Empire, Lieutenant. You will obey, in all things. The Empire owns your mind. The Empire owns your heart. The Empire owns your body. The Emperor loves you”, he said, with a surprising tenderness. He let go of Simon's chin._

_Simon's head drooped. “Lift your head, Lieutenant”, Negri ordered. The tenderness was still there, but much diminished. “Lift your head, Simon.”_

_He tried. He couldn't. Negri slapped him on the cheek. He fell over, a shameful display from any Imperial officer._

“ _You will obey, in all things”, Negri said._

“You will obey, in all things”, the indoctrinator said to Vorrutyer.

Simon went back to his office.

 

Vorrutyer was Vor. Vorrutyer was going to infiltrate the High Vor. Captain Illyan had been kindly requested to do the final part of the loyalty training himself.

Simon arrived at the door. He nodded to the guard. Illyan stepped in.

Vorrutyer was tied to a chair. He was in loose shirt and trousers, hair in disarray, and on half a dozen drugs. On Beta colony, he wouldn't have been able to give consent to sex. On Barrayar, consent was irrelevant, provided one was ImpSec. (Perhaps ImpSex would be a better name, in this instance.)

“Vorrutyer”, Illyan greeted.

“Captain Illyan”, Vorrutyer said. He looked to be on the verge of dissociating. “How nice to see you.”

Illyan strode over, released Vorrutyer from the chair, and pulled him up into a bruising kiss. Vorrutyer was pliant and taller than him.

“You belong to Imperial Security”, Illyan said. “You will obey, in all things.”

“I will obey”, Vorrutyer whispered. Illyan was pleased.

Illyan pushed him towards the bed in the corner. “Strip”, he ordered. Vorrutyer obeyed.

(Simon much preferred being on the other end of the equation, but the people who would most be happy to reduce him to a pliant heap on the ground were the ones he couldn't in good conscience let anywhere near him. He'd considered asking Vorkosigan, but he didn't want to bear the Countess' knowing smirks for the rest of his existence. The Emperor – well, he still occasionally had trouble believing that Gregor had an age measured in the double digits.)

Illyan advanced towards Vorrutyer. He pushed the naked Vorrutyer down onto the bed, and shucked off his own clothes. He got on top of Vorrutyer. He grasped Vorrutyer's throat. (It was important and symbolic, it had been decided in the relevant staff meeting. The gesture was meant to symbolize that Imperial Security could, at any moment, deprive the agent of his life.)

Vorrutyer shied away a bit. (Simon longed for a choking pressure on his trachea.) Illyan pressed just below his chin, enough to make a man feel like he was choking without actually choking him. No special reaction. (Just as the main indoctrinator's report had stated.)

Illyan pinned Vorrutyer's wrists down. “Keep your hands there”, he ordered.

He leaned back and lifted the bottle of lubricant from the small stand next to the bed. (The same staff meeting had decided that physical penetration was important, for it was symbolic of “letting ImpSec inside of oneself”.) He poured some on his fingers, ordered Vorrutyer to spread his legs, and gently slipped in a fingertip. Weight on his hip, Illyan stroked Vorrutyer's hair with his other hand.

(Oxytocin was an interesting hormone. It was the chemical of love and loyalty, and could create nigh-unbreakable bonds. Falling in love with one's indoctrinator was encouraged.)

Illyan inserted another finger. Vorrutyer's breath caught. His eyes were dilated. He was probably not dissociating, though pain was often more grounding than pleasure. Illyan consulted his chip, bent his fingers just so, and Vorrutyer moaned.

Illyan kissed Vorrutyer lazily and tenderly while he inserted another finger.

A while later, Illyan withdrew his fingers. Due to the proportions of both men, Illyan had to give up kissing Vorrutyer's (soft, sweet) mouth. A few coats of lubricant onto his dick, and Illyan gently pushed in to Vorrutyer. (If he was the one penetrating, Simon much preferred women. It was less hassle all around.)

Vorrutyer relaxed. Illyan began moving. A few tries, and he found an angle that had Vorrutyer moaning appreciatively. (The file had stated that Vorrutyer enjoyed this activity, both giving and receiving.)

“The Emperor loves you”, Illyan stated as flatly as he could with his cock inside another human being. (It was a weird thing to say, even if one was the Emperor. Perhaps especially if one was the Emperor. The staff meeting responsible had felt that while having the agent fall in love with the indoctrinator was nice, the agent should really be falling in love with the Emperor, too.)

“I will obey”, Vorrutyer whispered.

 

Vorrutyer was a complete project, needing only the smallest of field tests. He was sent to seduce a harmless, unpopular Vor, fifteenth in line to the Vorfolse countship.

Simon read the reports. Vorrutyer had gotten close, competently build intimacy, gotten into Vorfolse's bed, and gently extricated himself. A model performance, with Vorfolse not suspecting anything beyond a casual fling gone sour.

The detailed descriptions of the sex acts themselves were rather boring. Plain old regular sexuality, with nothing to spice it up; not even any particularly risqué dirty talk.

The chip had made an accurate guess as to Simon's mood, as it chose to bring a favorite memory to the edge of his consciousness. Simon indulged himself.

 _Simon was lying on his back naked. Negri whispered things into his ear,_ but their subject wasn't important. Simon ignored them.

_Negri had oiled fingers inside him. They moved somewhat gingerly._

“ _You are a tool of the Empire. You will serve in all things. You will serve the Empire with your mind and with your body.” Negri paused for a moment, while he extricated his fingers from Simon's ass and pressed in his dick. He put a hand on Simon's throat, and began thrusting._

“ _I should ask for the Emperor to take you to his bed, while I watched you for disloyalty. How would that feel?” Negri asked, voice dark._

_One of the drugs in Simon's system was fast-penta, so he answered. “Yes. Ohh, perfect. I would- like. That.”_

_Negri's hand exerted pressure and cut off any further remarks Simon might make. He couldn't breathe. He felt gloriously out of control, owned, possessed, yes, he would turn into liquid and let Negri make anything out of him, this was the best he'd felt-_

_Simon came._

 

Captain Simon Illyan, Chief of Imperial Security, was watching the surveillance camera's video of Byerly Vorrutyer seducing Jacques Vorlane. It was professional and rather unexciting. Vorrutyer was able to maintain the necessary mental distance whilst appearing to be close, unlike many others. (Simon was one of the many. His one attempt at being a honeypot as an Ensign had been short, since he could only either dissociate so far that his partner found him uninteresting, or he could be falling in love with his mark. Falling in love with ghem-Admirals was discouraged, so Simon had not had any further such assignments.)

Simon watched Vorrutyer make pillow talk after the fact. A few skillful questions and some misdirection, and not only had Vorlane had confessed to the embezzlement, but he'd given a short description of how he'd done it in his urge to boast to his new conquest. Jackpot.

Satisfied, Simon leaned back in his chair. He smirked. Vorrutyer was a colossal success, and could be deployed on larger fry. He had Vorrutyer's handler notified of several targets of appropriate difficulty.

Captain Illyan closed his eyes and let himself fantasize about Aral Vorkosigan.


End file.
